


First Time

by Shad0w_V4rgr



Series: Borderlands Writings [2]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:33:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24367354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shad0w_V4rgr/pseuds/Shad0w_V4rgr
Summary: ‘You never forget your first time.’ Or so the saying goes.Tyreen learns this the hard way when the desperation for physical intimacy outweighs better judgement.
Series: Borderlands Writings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729078
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	First Time

**Author's Note:**

> A short story set during the early days of the COV; many years before the events of Borderlands 3.
> 
> Trigger warning; as stated in the tags, there is an implied rape/non-con scene in this story. If this will offend or upset you, please do not read.

The glare from the computer screen lit up Troy’s face, revealing every line of concentration. It was the only light in an otherwise dark room. His eyes were strained, glued to the monitor, while he clicked away at the mouse. Accurately pointing the cross-hair at enemies popping up on screen.

Tyreen was sat beside her brother, at his desk. An open can of beer in her lap that she’d barely touched. Watching while Troy played that stupid game he loved so much. The one he _NEVER_ let her play. She didn’t understand why he was so possessive over a damned computer. But he was. It was his pride and joy. He used it for all his editing and for creating propaganda for the COV. In his spare time, he’d use it for gaming and browsing the ECHOnet until the early hours of the morning. 

In truth, Tyreen enjoyed watching Troy play his stupid game. Sharing some down-time, away from the overwhelming responsibilities of running a cult. Moments like these were becoming more and more scarce as the cult grew. These were the rare moments when they didn’t have to keep up appearances for their followers. They could forget about the cult and let their guard down. Try to maintain some form of sanity; be themselves, dress casual, act _normal_. If only for a short while. 

Right now, Tyreen needed the distraction.

“So, you’re serious about this guy?” Troy asked casually, absorbed in his game. 

Tyreen observed her brother’s impressive head-shot kill-streak.

“I mean, I guess so?” She tried to think of a convincing follow-up statement. “He’s good company.” 

That really was the best she could come up with. 

“Obviously. The amount of time you’ve been spending with him.” Troy’s eyes never left the screen. “And what did you say his name was? _Bulldozer?_ ” He pried further. 

Tyreen cringed. 

“No dumbass its…it’s just…Dozer.” 

She took a small sip of beer. Saying the name aloud made her feel more of a fool than she already did. 

She hadn’t exactly been subtle about their growing relationship. The entire cult knew that the God-Queen had been spending an unusual amount of time with a particular bandit. A bandit who had made the extra effort to be recognised for his talents; indisputable brutality and murder. He’d outshone all other cultists with his dedication. Consistently exceeding the quota of sacrifices for the Twin Gods.

That’s what caught Tyreen’s attention in the first place. His persistence. What kept her attention, however, was that this particular bandit could speak full sentences. Without feeling the need to yell obscene nonsense.

“Pfft yeah, with a name like that he sounds like he’d be great company.” Troy teased gently. 

“Actually, he is great company.” Tyreen insisted, with a flip of her hair. “He’s attentive. He listens to what I say. To me. The _real_ me, not just the _God-Queen_.” 

As his name suggested, Dozer was tall and well built; a physically strong and intimidating man. Tyreen loved admiring his muscles, _especially_ his abs. Wishing she could run her fingers along the well-defined lines of his core... His face left much to be desired, but that didn’t really matter, _did it?_ He was a good listener and showered her with attention. He had always been gentle and respectful towards her too.

“He’s a psycho, Ty.” Troy sniped, both in game and with his words. 

“They’re all psychos, _Troy_.” Tyreen sniped back, emphasizing his name.

“Ah fuck it!” Troy let out a frustrated groan and slammed his fist onto the desk. 

His in-game character dropped dead, ending his kill-streak. Troy sighed and pushed himself away from the desk, allowing enough space for him to stand up dramatically.

“You know he’s only after one thing, right? And the bragging rights that come with it.” He turned to his sister, making sure she was paying full attention. “ _I’m Bulldozer and I fucked the God-Queen!_ ” He announced, in a deep, mock-psycho voice.

“It’s _Dozer!_ And ugh…do you really have to say it like that?!”

It was crude, but Tyreen knew he was right. Any and every single one of their followers would eagerly give their lives to spend one night with the God-Queen. More so if they knew it would be her first sexual encounter. 

Tyreen slumped into her chair.

“At this rate I’m going to die a virgin.” She moped and gracelessly chugged down the beer.

Troy sniggered like a schoolboy at the term.

“It isn’t funny Troy.” Tyreen kicked his leg. Gently of course. She’d never want to hurt him intentionally.

The kick hadn’t dissuaded him. Troy crashed back down into his chair in a fit of giggles.

“You’re such an asshole!” Tyreen crushed the empty beer can and threw it at Troy’s head.

“Ow, what the fuck? That hurt!” He cried out, rubbing the side of his head, pretending to be in pain.

Tyreen knew he was only teasing to drag her out of the dismal mood she was slipping into. It always worked. She never could keep a straight face. Seeing that goofy smile and hearing that ridiculous laugh of his.

She needed to laugh too. If she didn’t, she’d likely cry. So, she joined in. Their shared laughter masked the harsh reality of her previous statement.

Throughout their lives Tyreen had surpassed Troy in every way that had significance. She was strong and he was weak. She was confident and he was timid. She was the _siren_ and he was just…her brother. 

Despite all her prowess, she was falling behind with the endeavour of achieving a romantic relationship. Embarrassingly so.

Physical contact with another person had been a scary thought at first, for both Twins. Especially since the majority of people on Pandora would sooner stab you than speak to you. Being detached from humanity for so long hadn’t helped either. Growing up on an isolated planet had them at a disadvantage. They craved basic social interaction and ultimately, intimacy. 

“Seriously though Ty.” Troy toned down his laughter as he re-loaded the game. “For whatever reason you like this guy, I don’t think it’s a good idea to rush into things. I mean you hardly know him.” 

“Ha! Says the guy who’s slept with half the women in the cult.” Tyreen scoffed. 

Troy could sleep with who he wanted, when he wanted. He was free to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh, without the lingering doubt that he may end up accidently hurting his partner. Or worse. 

And indulged he had. The rhythmic sound of banging headboards and other bedroom furniture kept Tyreen awake some nights. 

Being a cult leader had its perks. Easy pickings for flings and one-night stands. If only she could take advantage the way Troy did.

She loved her brother; but envied him that.

There were only so many times one could pleasure oneself before loneliness set in. The yearning for intimacy with another. 

The only time Tyreen had touched anyone was to cause them harm. To take from them.

All she had ever done was _take_. 

For once she wanted to _give_ and feel the satisfaction of being taken in return. To feel the heat of another body against hers. The sensation of skin on skin…

It didn’t have to be full blown sex.

It could be a simple kiss.

An embrace.

Holding hands. 

Something.

 _Anything._

Anything to end her touch-deprivation and fulfill her desperate longing to be loved. Truly loved. Not as a God or a siren, but as a woman.

“Ty.” Troy spoke after a prolonged silence. His amusement had ceased, as if it had never existed in the first place. 

He took note of his sister’s stillness. It was unlike her to be silent and was the clearest indication that she was troubled or upset.

“I worry about you, that’s all.” He confessed. 

Tyreen knew she could talk to her brother about anything. And him to her. All they had left now was each other. Even so, she wouldn’t dare talk to him about this. It was too personal. Too embarrassing.

“You listening to me Ty?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m listening” Tyreen waved her hand dismissively. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” Troy’s tone was dead serious.

“Oh come on, you don’t need to worry about me silly.” She chuckled softly at his grim expression and leaned her head against his shoulder. “It’s my job to worry about you.”

“You know what could happen if you get close to someone...” Troy muttered tentatively. “If you lose control again-” 

“Enough Troy, I don’t want to hear it.” Tyreen felt him tense up as she interrupted. 

“This is supposed to be our chill time. Why don’t you give the level another go?” She reassured him with a smile. “Bet you can do it this time.”

Tyreen knew all too well what could happen. But she no longer cared. She’d made up her mind and was going to get what she wanted. She always did.

\---- 

Tyreen had spent the entire day preparing for this evening. 

Candles carefully placed around her bedroom, ambient music to set the mood, a selection of alcoholic beverages. One of which she’d drank to calm her nerves, while she waited in anticipation for her company to arrive.

She’d showered profusely and picked out something comfortable yet flattering to wear, as opposed to her usual attire. A simple black-lace dress that accentuated the natural curves of her body. She had always felt self-conscious about her body, as though it was lacking. For that reason, she never usually wore dresses. But this was to be a special occasion; she wanted to feel sexy and to be desired. Tonight, she didn’t want to be the _God-Queen_. 

Tonight, she wanted to be _Tyreen_. 

Yet after all her preparation, she was still unsure of what to expect. A complete lack of experience meant she would have to run purely on confidence and, hopefully, the passionate flow of events. 

A firm knock on the bedroom door startled her. He was ten minutes earlier than the agreed upon time. 

“Come in.” Tyreen called out. It sounded less commanding than she had intended. 

Dozer entered her bedroom, eyeing her immediately. Tyreen promptly stood up from the end of her bed to meet him halfway. And more importantly, to allow the man a full view of her body. The expression on his face portrayed his approval, and his arousal.

Tyreen looked over the man, whom she was about to give herself to. The bandit hadn’t made the slightest of efforts with his appearance, wearing the classic worn-out slacks and clunky steel boots. Thankfully, he’d had the decency to wash.

“You’re here early, I wasn’t expecting…um there’s booze on the table if you…I mean you don’t have to, I just thought you might like…” She was rambling. 

_Where was her unwavering confidence?_

“I didn’t know what music you liked so I put on…something…if you don’t like it, I can turn it off and-”

The bandit put his finger to her lips, not quite touching them, but close enough to silence her.

Tyreen tensed up. 

He was right. She had talked enough. Now was the time for action.

The bandit’s fingers subsequently wrapped themselves around Tyreen’s forearm; unfearing of her potential to cause him harm. Tyreen’s skin tingled and her heart raced at the sudden contact.

The warmth. 

The pressure. 

The closeness. 

And how her body responded to being touched. 

She _liked_ that sensation.

Tyreen was keen to repay the favour. She ran a single finger down the bandit’s chest, along the defined lines of his muscles and perfect abs. 

Testing the waters. Making sure her powers were staying under control. 

How long she had wanted this.

But the grin from her returning confidence was quickly cut down.

Dozer unexpectedly grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her in for a kiss. It was abrupt and aggressive, interrupting the steady pace and knocking her confidence back down again. 

“Hey, be gentle!” Tyreen yelled as she pushed against his chest. 

She hadn’t wanted her first kiss to be like _that_.

“Stop it! Not so damn fast!” She growled, shoving him angrily. “I’ve never done this before...this is my first time!” 

She had already told him this; having to admit the truth again made her feel bitter.

Dozer tried again. Brushing his thumb over her pouting lips, he leaned in for a kiss, slower this time. Tyreen gradually approved and returned the gesture. 

When they broke from the long and somewhat awkward kiss, Tyreen took hold of the bandit’s hand and eagerly led him towards her lavish bed. The bandit, equally as eager, followed and climbed onto the bed after her. 

His rough hands were quick to explore her body. She could feel their heat through the thin material of her dress. Tyreen moaned softly, her own hands caressed the bandit’s broad shoulders and prompted him to move on top of her. She stared up at the ceiling, lost in the physical bliss of kisses being planted along her jaw, down her neck and collarbone. 

_This_ is what she had been missing out on. 

Touch.

Desire.

Passion.

_Love._

_This_ is what she had wanted.

_Wasn’t it?_

Tyreen felt her heart pulsate. A single wave of unease surged through her entire body. A split second of doubt. 

Something was wrong. 

“Wait, wait minute…” She murmured. 

Her lover didn’t stop. Perhaps he didn’t hear her. 

“I said wait a minute, I’m not sure-” Tyreen pushed against the bandit’s shoulders, attempting to sit up. 

He paid no attention to her. His kisses were getting harsher. His hands were clutching aggressively at her body. 

Tyreen’s heart was racing. 

_Why wasn’t he listening?_

Something felt _very_ wrong.

She needed a minute to calm down and compose herself.

“Stop it!” Tyreen panicked, putting all her strength into forcing the bandit off her. “Fucking listen to me! I said stop it!”

It was too fast. Too sudden. 

She wasn’t comfortable with this anymore. 

She wasn’t in control. 

The bandit unwilling withdrew, but only for a moment. He grunted, aggravated, and shoved her back down onto the bed. 

Tyreen gasped, feeling his full weight holding her down. He was so much stronger than her. 

“What the fuck are you doing?! Get off of me!” She cried out, slapping him across the face. “I don’t like – I don’t want-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” The bandit slapped her back, twice as hard. 

The pain shocked her into silence and numbness.

She suddenly felt so small beneath him, so vulnerable. And, for the first time, _afraid_.

The bandit held both of Tyreen’s wrists above her head with one hand, tearing at her dress with the other, to get at her untouched skin. 

_Why was he doing this?_

Tears welled up in her eyes as his lips assaulted her skin. Her collarbone, her breasts, her stomach…

He’d always been so gentle. He’d always listened to her. 

She’d _trusted_ him. 

But now he was a stranger. Forcing himself on her and soon into her.

The bandit’s hand clenched her leg and travelled upwards, parting her thighs. Tyreen’s body quivered.

She didn’t want this. 

Her first time _shouldn’t_ be like this. 

While her underwear was forcibly removed, Tyreen watched through tearful eyes as her siren markings came violently to life. Instinct pulsed through her body, reacting to the overwhelming fear she was experiencing. All that was left to do was close her eyes to the bloodcurdling screams that would follow.

The screaming stopped almost as soon as it had begun. It always did when she took a life.

The husk of her would-be lover glared down menacingly at her. Judging her actions. 

Tyreen freed her wrists from the lifeless hand that bound them together, and squirmed out from under the husk. 

The tears streaming down her face were unrelenting, while she gathered the shredded pieces of her dress. 

“It wasn’t…supposed to be like this…” She uttered in contempt. “It was…an accident…” 

All she ever did was _take_.

All she ever did was cause pain to those who got close to her. 

Perhaps she wasn’t worthy of being loved so intimately. 

Perhaps it would be for the best if she cared for no one at all.


End file.
